


The Flower Of Panem

by francisthefairyqueen



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:47:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/francisthefairyqueen/pseuds/francisthefairyqueen
Summary: The hunger games are rough, brutal and altogether horrifying. Unfortunately, the rest of Panem is not any better.A hunger games self-insert story
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

This world I was born into is not the world I remember living in. Of course, if you asked anyone here, they would tell you that ‘Maeve’ has been living here her whole life. They would also assume that you’re as batty as my mother. My sister and father would say the same as well, after laughing at the thought of me being anyone other than who they think I am. After all, I was born alongside my sister in our house in the Merchant’s Guild, so why would they even consider that notion?

But alas, I was. I had never really believed in the concept of reincarnation, so when I was, in fact, reincarnated, I had no idea what to think. Still don’t now if I’m honest. There is a part of me that still refuses to believe it, that still thinks that I am only seeing what I believed I would see after I passed away. Although, the longer I live on in this world, the smaller that part of me becomes. One day, it might fade completely. But not yet. 

Reincarnation I could believe and deal with. However, this world is something that I can’t. See, the reason this was so hard to believe is the fact that this world did exist in my old world. It was confined to a book series which I had obsessed over during my early teens, and in films which I shamefully watched too many times. 

This world is Panem.  
You know the country that has an annual hunger games where a bunch of kids fight to the death? Yeah that Panem. It took all 20 years of my previous life experience to not break down in front of everyone when I worked that out. 

I decided straight away that I was being punished by a higher power; it was Panem of all places that they decided I should live. I may have a better life than majority of people in the district, but it didn’t stop the fact that my life could end abruptly at 11 due to someone from district 2 decapitating me with a sword. 

I still don’t know why it was me of all people that this...higher power decided to send. I was nothing special. I hadn’t committed any crimes and wasn’t very intelligent, so it still makes no sense for them to not only put me in this world, but to also retain knowledge of my previous life. 

There’s a theory that I have surrounding this new world and I. It’s that this whole situation was an accident. After all, why else would they have send someone who hasn’t done anything wrong to this hell? Perhaps they felt sympathetic for me due to their mistake and allowed me to maintain my memories so I could theoretically make some changes to this world for the better. 

Who knows?

I’ll spare you the details of my gruesome death and start this tale from my entrance into the world of the hunger games. 

I was the youngest daughter born to Mayor Undersee and his wife, Marceline Undersee in the Undersee household on the 5th of May in the year of the 58th Hunger games. Of course, I can’t remember much of what happened then, as my infant eyes were very undeveloped and I could not focus really on my other senses, but I do remember how I was feeling: Absolute terror. I could not really understand what was going on, as one second I was awaiting whatever the afterlife had to throw at me, and the next I was being lifted into the cold air, screaming to breathe.  
It took a couple of weeks for me to realise that I was not in fact dead, which threw me off slightly as I had been pretty sure that I did die. Then it took about a week to realise that I was not a full grown adult anymore; I was a newborn baby. That is when I decided to consider the idea of reincarnation. 

I had never really researched the idea to be honest. All the knowledge I possessed of this topic was from Naruto self-insert fanfiction, so the first few weeks of my reincarnation, I was absolutely giddy from the idea that I was in the Narutoverse, a secret dream of mine. I didn’t cry and let myself be cared for without complaint as I didn’t want to piss of my potentially shinobi parents.

My new parents were probably a bit concerned by my sudden change in behaviour, as I had gone from refusing help and screaming non-stop to being as good as gold. But they certainly didn’t complain about getting an extra 3 hours of sleep because I, unlike my twin, was being a little bugger. 

However, I came to realise that this wasn’t the shinobi world. There was no chakra in the air that I could experiment with, nor was there any flak jackets or hitai-ites. Not only that, but I realised that as I could understand what my parents were saying, they were not speaking Japanese. At first I hadn’t, as my screaming was too loud to hear what they were saying, but during that week, they spoke to me constantly and I realised that they were speaking to me in English.  
Not just any old english, but American English, a language which the shinobi of Naruto would never hear or understand, let alone speak. 

While it was disapointing to discover that I had been wrong about my initial idea, I was kind of glad that I wasn’t reborn into a world that trains child soldiers. However, what world had I been born into then? I secretly hoped that I was just reborn into the world I had just left, as then I knew what to expect in life. As more time passed, I got more confident that I had been reborn into the United States, which while frustrating due to my British citizenship, was something that I could cope with.

Sadly, I didn’t get the answer to my previous question until more than a year after mine and my twin’s birth. Of course, there were signs that I was living in this world before I found out, from small signs such as my mother being prescribed morphine by the doctor that visited, to major signs such as my twin’s name being Madge and the white uniform of the Peacekeepers, but I didn’t think anything of these facts. I wasn’t a doctor, so I wouldn’t know about medication, and although her name made me think of her, many people would have called their children Madge after the character from the books. 

It wasn’t until my father sat my sister and I in front of the TV in Summer that I realised what world I was reborn into. As the TV counted down from 60 to 0, I panicked, suspecting the world this was. My suspicions were confirmed once the children on the screen began to murder each other and I watched these games in silent horror, knowing that I was not in the United States in my world, I was Panem in the world of the hunger games trilogy.

I would like to say that at that moment I decided on a plan to keep myself and my family alive while initiating the rebellion, but I didn’t. Instead, in a moment of human weakness I said my first word, a word which accurately sums up my predicament throughout this life:

Shit.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

As the weeks went on, I found myself thinking about the situation I was in (there really wasn’t much else to do.) Somehow, I had ended up in a world that was worse than the Narutoverse; at least everyone there gets a chance to become child soldiers whereas here, only a few get that chance and the rest are expected to die.

I’m in a well-off family in this world. My father is the fucking mayor so I’m pretty sure we are the richest family in my District and as such, we will never go hungry and won’t die of sickness. However, I’m in District 12, the town that will literally blow up before I’m 18. Not only that, but I have Madge as a twin sister. She was one of my favourite characters in the series, albeit a bit unknown’ (I will not forgive the movies for excluding her if it’s the last thing I do) but she never really had anything to do with the rebellion, or the games. If I want to aid the rebellion, then I would have to do it by myself. However, regardless of whether or not I want to help out the rebels or not, they will not get my family to safety during the bombing of 12. There’s a reason why most of the survivors were from the Seam. I may have only known this new family for 15 months, but I didn’t want to see them get blown to pieces. Hell, I didn’t want to be blown to pieces. It sounded painful.

However, the rebellion has to happen. This is the world of the fucking hunger games, where children have to fight to the death. The rebellion, despite claiming many lives, still brought this system to an end, and as of this moment in time, I can’t think of an alternative way to end it. If I manage to live long enough to have children and there is no rebellion, then these children could end up getting reaped and subsequently get killed, which is horrifying. To actively try and stop anything from happening, so I can experience the fear of being chosen during my reaping years and then my children’s, is something that I simply cannot do. 

But I do have an advantage in this world. My knowledge. This would give me an advantage over the other tributes naturally in a hunger games, but the important thing is that I know of more than just this world. The world I used to live in was a world that- despite it’s faults, advocated democracy above anything else, so I know that a system like that works, as opposed to the millions of people in this world that fear the idea of a different system being worse than the one they were currently living in. This may not be the Narutoverse, but I can still try to change this world for the bette. I could perhaps prevent some of my favourite characters like Finnick, Cashmere and Gloss from dying and make sure that other favourites such as Johanna, Annie and Haymitch didn’t have such shitty lives after this rebellion. 

But how would I do this? I had no idea. But luckily, I still had years until I needed to figure out a solid plan for my goals. All I had to do now was focus on being a baby and redeveloping my motor skills.   
Unfortunately, I easily picked these skills up. Usually in the self-insert fics that I used to read, the main character struggles to learn the language that everyone else is speaking, but I didn’t. I had been speaking English my entire life, so instead of babbling like normal babies do- like my twin did, I spoke in full sentences after saying that unfortunate first word. I tried to copy Madge when it came to milestones like walking and crawling, but like an idiot I completely forgot that babies tend to not nail actions of the first try. So, when Madge stood up to attempt to walk, I stood as well, continuing on when she fell. 

I must have shocked my parents, but it didn’t really matter. I doubt that me seeming smarter than the average toddler really mattered in this world, as it’s not like I would be given special attention due to it. They started treated me differently to Madge though, by talking to me as if I was a child, as opposed to speaking to a baby. I thought that she would notice and get jealous, as toddlers tend to get envious easily, but to my surprise, she didn’t. She instead seemed to believe that I was the older twin and started to call me ‘big sis,’ something which I appreciated.

Of course, due to me ‘picking’ up these skills quickly, I still had a lot of time on my hands, so I began to read to pass the time. I felt a bit like Matilda, but almost immediately, I was reading books that should have been too hard for a toddler to read. I discovered that this world contained many classics from my world, such as ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ This was a bit odd as these two are seen as transgressive figures, but I guess it’s more of an act of rebellion against family than the state, in fact the state seems to support this union. Also, they did have to get the term ‘star cross’d lovers’ from somewhere. That story however was the only story I found that remained uncensored: the others were littered with Capitolist Propaganda. Which is what you’d expect from a totalitarian dictatorship, but as a book fan, I couldn’t help but be offended by the lack of respect the Capitol treated most of these stories. 

Alongside calling me ‘big sis,’ as soon as she began to talk coherently, Madge started asking me questions. They were never in front of our parents, who were around a lot more than I’d thought they’d be, especially considering the job that my father had, but during the night, when we had been put into our room by a maid. They were simple questions such as ‘how was your day?’ but I absolutely loved them. Madge took as much of an interest in learning as I did, but she preferred to learn from me, something which made almost cry the first time she said this. I then told her that I would answer anything she had to ask regardless of what it was, something which I would come to regret many years later.

The first time she asks a ‘difficult’ question was the night after we went to the District square. We were 4, and it was the Reaping for the 62nd Hunger Games. We had to stand in the children’s section as we were too old to be carried and almost immediately I noticed the glares many children- mostly from the Seam, were sending our way. It took longer for Madge to notice, but soon she did, and as the female tribute’s name, Letitia Armstrong, was called, my twin went pale and clasped my hand. We kept holding hands up until night time, when she climbs into my bed and taps me on the shoulder.

“Big sis?” She asks and I answer, not turning around.  
“Yes?”  
“Why do they hate us?”  
I turn around then and smile sadly, taking her hand in mine.  
‘They don’t hate us Madge, they’re just jealous of the fact that we can eat and they can’t.”  
She frowns at me then, and I know she’s going to ask me another question. I think of an answer as to why the Seam folk hate us. But that isn’t what she asks. No what she asks is way more complicated.   
“Not them! I know why they hate us. I mean the Capitol. Why does the Capitol hate us? I mean they reap-”   
I cover her mouth quickly, my face paling. It doesn’t matter if we’re supposed to only be 3, words like that are treason against the Capitol. Against Snow. I’m not as naïve to think that the Capitol hadn’t bugged our house. They might not bug every house, but if they have bugged the victors’, then there is no way that they wouldn’t bug the Mayor’s house. After all, like the victors, the Mayor is supposed to represent the District. She looks at me with fearful eyes, and I realise that I’m scaring her.   
“They don’t hate us,” I say, attempting to sound at least a little honest “the games are a punishment to the districts of Panem, as we wrongly rebelled against the Capitol during the Dark Days.”  
The look in her eyes told me that she didn’t believe me, and I made a mental note to work on my acting, because if a 4 year old was able to pick up on the fact that I was lying, then I really was shit at it.   
She didn’t say anything else though, which I was secretly grateful for. Instead she hugs me and closes her eyes, falling asleep almost instantly. I wrap my arms around her protectively, thinking about the future. 

I stayed up that night thinking. It wasn’t until a long time after she’d fallen asleep that I made my decision in regards to the future. Forget the fact that I can help this world out, I will. Not for myself, or even for the million of families in Panem that want a better world for their childrens’ future. Not for Katniss, or Peeta, or even my parents. But for Madge. She never deserved the fate she suffered, and she, who is so pure- so innocent, shouldn’t be corrupted by a system that punishes innocents based on what their ancestors did. Like Lizzie in ‘Goblet Market,’ I will save her and change this world for her, damn the consequences. 

Over the course of the night, I think of a plan to try and fix the future. By morning I’ve come up with a plan and know what I need to do. The end goal will be to survive, preferably happily, but first of all, I need to gain some allies.   
I really wanted to avoid him, but I have to do this for her eventual survival.   
I ask my father if we can go to the bakery and brace myself as despite how painful it will be, it’s about time I meet the Boy with the Bread.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maeve meets our very own Peeta Mellark.

Chapter 3

"I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards and broken things." — Tyrion Lannister, A Game of Thrones, George R. R. Martin

The bakery is not what I expected to be. Of course, I didn’t really know what to expect. I’d imagined that the bakery would look like a run down version of what the bakeries near my old apartment in London looked like, or at the very least, it looked like the bakery in the film. But it didn’t. Instead, it looked like the bakeries you find in Wales, as in it was a run down cottage, but there was still a homely feel to it.   
No wonder the Mellark’s didn’t want to leave here, I think to myself; It’s beautiful.   
I think back to when I was a child in my old life, when I was growing up in Wales and visiting these sort of bakeries. The thought is clearly too much for my 4 year old body, and I feel myself start to tear up.   
Frustrated, I wipe away my tears, hoping that my family members won’t notice. Unfortunately, as the odds are not in my favour, they do.  
Madge immediately hugs me, whispering words of comfort. My father looks at me concerned and I smile at them.  
“Don’t worry about me,” I say, “The smoke is just getting in my eyes.”  
The air was heavy with smog this morning, so, I was grateful that I could use that as an excuse. Madge lets go and nods whereas my father doesn’t change his expression.  
“You know girls, if the smog is affecting you, then we should probably go back ho-”  
“No,” I say, cutting him off.   
I need to meet Peeta Mellark. His love for Katniss is one of the main reasons for the rebellion, but it’s not just for that reason that I need to seek him out. His words were always seen as a weapon, one of the most deadly; after all, wasn’t it Peeta’s words that gave the Capitolitans the incentive to riot and rebel against the games? He was a good person but a manipulator who understood how the game worked. Katniss may have handed him the berries, but he was the one who wanted the nation to see what they were doing. I need someone with that ability on my side as I can’t just simply hope that he’ll still have these skills in the future. For all I know, my simple presence in his classes might somehow make him lose this ability and then when he gets reaped, he’ll just die pathetically while Katniss may win.  
Father looks unsure, but Madge grabs my hand and pulls me inside.   
Well, someone’s eager.   
The bakery is something else entirely. It's warm inside (which I appreciate) and it smells like yeast, cinnamon, bread and coffee. There is a wide range of pastries and foods available in the bakery, food which existed in my world, something I was grateful for. A man behind the counter beams at us as soon as we walk in, and I immediately assume that he is Mr Mellark. After all, his sons were bound to be too young to help run the bakery and I doubt that the family could afford to hire help. I swear Peeta mentions in the first book that he and his family had to eat stale bread due to not being able to afford proper food...   
“Ryan” My father greets, receiving a nod from the baker.  
“Marcus” the baker replies and the two begin to talk about nothing and everything at the same time.  
My father’s name was Marcus, something which I hadn’t known. From the confused look Madge is giving me, I assume that she also didn’t know this. Even for a 24 year old trapped in a 4 year old’s body, the fact that my father’s first name is something other than Mayor is shocking.  
Before I know it, my father has bought three strawberry tarts and is leading us out of the door. I brace myself for a tantrum, wanting to stay in the bakery until I meet Peeta, or at least one of his brothers, but Mr Mellark helps me out.   
“How about a playdate?” he asks my father and I grin, silently thanking the mayor despite the fact that he didn’t have any idea that Madge or I wanted a playdate.   
Maybe I had been watching too much Game of Thrones in my past life, but it was pretty obvious that Mr Mellark only wanted the bakery to have the support of the Undersees. After all, of the Mayor’s daughters are close to the baker’s sons, then why wouldn’t the mayor provide money to ensure that the rapidly deteoriating bakery doesn’t collapse and kill either Madge and I, or people we strongly care about.   
Now that I think about it, no wonder Madge was such a loner in canon. Katniss was probably the only person in that school that she could guarantee would not try and use her to elevate their or their families’ status.   
My father quickly agrees, which although I am happy about, is a bit strange, as surely he would have realised what the baker was trying to do, if I, a year his junior, realised.  
Maybe he saw something that I didn’t, I don’t know, but due to his agreement, I found myself sitting in front of the 3 Mellark brothers a few days later. 

I never liked the Mellarks. Other than Peeta, the family just seemed like a special sort of horrible. After all, unless this was a medieval or fantastical world, how could someone stand by and let their spouse abuse the children the two made together? Not only that, but the second Mellark stood by when his younger brother’s name was killed and didn’t do anything to try and prevent it. I know that Katniss’ actions were seen as unique, but surely I would have assumed that any decent older sibling would have volunteered for their younger sibling. Gale would have volunteered for Rory if his name was chosen, I’m sure of it. If Delly Cartwright could volunteer for her brother, then I’m sure she would. We are supposed to know our younger siblings better than anyone else- even than our own parents, so if we know that our siblings is too gentle (or too good in Peeta’s case) for these games, then surely we would volunteer to save them?  
Oh no, not the Mellarks. Instead they simply watched Peeta become a victor and then refused to live in a house with him. Do I know why? No, Susanne Collins was never very specific with this issue, but I do know and believe that what they did was wrong.   
Over the days before the playdate, I make a plan to rid Peeta of the Mellark’s influence. By distancing himself from them, the blow that would have surely come from the second brother not volunteering wouldn’t affect Peeta so much. I prepare to hate the Mellark brothers for what they chose to do, but as I stand in front of them with Madge, I realise that I can’t hate them. How could I when these children in front of me haven’t done anything wrong?   
I don’t even know their names, I think to myself, feeling ashamed that I was so ready to hate them based on something that an alternate version of themselves had done. 

“I’m Bran,” the eldest says, distracting me from his thoughts. He is 8 years old and with stormy blue eyes and dirty blond hair, looks nothing like his father.   
“Rye” The middle child says with a wave and a smile. He is 6 and unlike his older brother, he does look somewhat like his father, having the same colour eyes as the man. 

“And that’s our brother Peeta!” They exclaim, pointing towards the youngest and I get my first look at the Boy with the Bread.   
Peeta didn’t look anything like how I imagined he would look from the book trilogy. He didn’t look anything like Josh Hutchinson either. His ashy blond hair, which I had always assumed was straight, was curly and fell in such a way that had his brothers not clarified what gender he was, I’m sure Madge would have assumed his was a girl. He however, was a spitting image of his father, from the facial structure to the exact same shade of blue in his eyes.

He doesn’t say anything to us, only making brief eye contact with us before going back to looking at the floor and I wonder if he’d been hit by his mother to behave around us, the Mayor’s children.   
‘You have to keep behave,’ I imagine her saying after she’d hit him, ‘don’t say a word and lose our chance of getting more money.’ I clench my fists in anger, but luckily, no one notices.

‘I’m Madge,’ my twin says with a smile which the two older Mellark’s return. Peeta continues to look at the floor. A couple of minutes pass and I realise that everyone is waiting for me to introduce myself.   
“Maeve,” I mumble, feeling myself flush at the attention.   
Peeta briefly looks up then, so I count that as a win. 

“Why don’t we play tag?” Bran suggests, and at Madge’s confused look, he goes onto explain the game. At least they have a simple game like tag in this world. Then again, I think to myself, in this world, tag is probably the only thing that children play.  
“Is Peeta playing?” my twin asks after he finishes his sentence. I hide a smile with a cough. It looks like someone is interested...   
“Well it depends if he wants to play,” the eldest Mellark replies, turning to his youngest brother,   
He turns around to Peeta, who vehemently shakes his head.  
Madge nods and then runs forward to tag Rye, who dodges and laughs at her second attempt, which results in her falling over.   
The three run around the room yet I stay still, watching Peeta, who is still staring at the bloody floor. Maybe he thinks I decided to play with the other? I don’t know, but after a few minutes, he finally looks up and his eyes meet mine.  
I smile at him and he shyly returns it. I count that as another win. Seriously, I think to myself, how does one so shy become the confident Peeta Mellark I know from the books?   
“Why aren’t you playing?” He asks, his voice hoarse. Hoarse from what? I don’t know, but the most likely reason would be from lack of use. After all, if he’s already being abused, like I think he is, then he would probably speak as few as he can, as speaking draws attention to oneself.   
“Hi,” I say and he mumbles a greeting, looking down at the floor again.   
I sigh to myself, knowing that it was going to be hard to get him to trust me, let alone be my friend.   
Or maybe not, I think to myself, glancing at my bag.  
“Follow me,” I say and walk towards it.   
I hear his footsteps as I make my way across the room and smile. At least he trusts me enough to follow me.   
“Let’s draw!” I say, taking out my trump card: a notebook. I know that Peeta was a really good artist from the books, so he would have had to start drawing from somewhere right?  
To my surprise, he looks at me confused.   
“What is that?” He asks and I frown.   
Has this kid never seen a notebook before? I know that we live in District 12, but surely a Merchant’s son would know what a notebook was.  
Apparently not.   
“It’s a notebook,” I explain, trying hard to keep the incredulity out of my voice, “we draw in it.”  
He nods then and gets the pens out of my bag for me. I open the book and start drawing, wondering when exactly this kid figured out he was good at drawing in the books. Surely, he didn’t actually get all of his skills from decorating the cakes form the bakery?

I finish my drawing and look up to see him watching me. When our eyes make contact, he quickly looks away to stare at my picture. I wait for him to add his own drawings, or at least pick up a pen but he doesn’t.   
It looks like I’m going at this the wrong way...  
I flick to the next page and draw half of a heart. Then I motion for him to finish it. He frowns at me, but at my encouraging nod and smile picks up a pen and finishes it.   
“When I say we draw together,” I say slowly, making sure he understands, “We draw together, Okay Peeta?”  
He nods. “Okay”

\--------------

“You’re a really good drawer you know,” I say to him after the next drawing, trying not to wince at my error. I’m a 24 year old woman damn it; I shouldn’t be calling an artist a ‘drawer.’ Peeta because he actually a 4 year old didn’t notice my error and correct me.   
Instead, there is a visible change in his demeanor. His whole face lights up.   
“Really?” he asks, his voice filled with an emotion that I somehow don’t recognise.  
“Yeah, you’re amazing” I say sincerely and he grins at me.  
Later that day, when my parents tell me off for filling an entire notebook with doodles and not practising my writing like I was supposed to do with it, I will think of that grin and smile myself, knowing that it was worth it. 

\--------------

“Did you girls have fun?” My father asks when we leave the Mellark house later on. “Yes,” we both exclaim. For different reasons I’m sure.  
“Can we play with them again?” I ask him and he looks surprised before relief crosses his face. If the Mellarks were the best choice out of the merchants, I think to myself, then I do not want to meet the other families.   
“You can meet them as many times as you like my dears,” he says and both of us beam at him to show our gratitude. Madge is happy to play with people that weren’t just me (I take no offense to that cause I’m sure if I were an actual 4 year old, I would feel the same way.) And I’m happy that I can finally initiate the first part of my plan.

Little did I know that in the house we just left, Peeta Mellark, in a voice that his family had never heard him use before, requests to see us again. In the original world- the one where I didn’t exist, this meeting would have still taken place, however neither the Mellarks or the Undersees would have sought a second meeting, as Madge would never have been confident enough to ask to see them again and she hadn’t made a memorable impression on the Mellark boys. This time however, I made an impression on them. I gave Peeta something that he had never received before: Praise and ignored the louder, more boisterous boys to focus on him. 

I needed an ally and I definitely gained one. But this encounter left me with something far more meaningful than an ally. That night as he went to sleep, Peeta Mellark fell asleep thinking of his first friend: not Delly Cartwright as he would in another life, but of Maeve Undersee: The Girl who Sees Him.

Fin

\--------------

A/N Hope you like this chapter! The list for Phase 1 of Maeve's plan will be full of references of memes, videos or moments of the randoms I'm in, so be prepared. I won't reveal what the endgame of this project will be as I don't like to give spoilers, just letting you guys know.

Also, the reference to this part of phase 1 is from a song by Studio C, a youtube channel. It's called 'Peeta's song,' and is hilarious. You should check it out.

Thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Even if you're little you can do a lot, you  
Mustn't let a little thing like little stop you - Mathilda, Mathilda

Before I know it, It’s our first day of school at the...school. They really need to call this place something other than ‘school.’ I mean come on! I really thought this had been bad world building by Suzanne Collins when I read the trilogy for the 20th time, but apparently it hadn’t been. I wonder how-   
“Maeve,” my twin says, rousing me out of my thoughts. I half heartedly glare at her and she giggles, taking my hand and pulling me through the school gates.   
One disadvantage of us growing up is that Madge now notices when I’m lost in my own thoughts. Because she’s a 5 year old and doesn’t appreciate having the time to think, she has made it her job to stop me from ‘thinking so hard.’ It was cute the first 10 times, but now it was just plain annoying.   
I won’t tell her that though because a annoyed Madge means hell for me.   
Our parents follow after us chuckling and I fight the urge to turn around and glare at them.   
After a few wrong turns, our mother guides us to the Sports hall where the other parents and children are.   
When I went to Secondary school (I believe that would be Middle school if we were living here in that world) in London during my past life, we had a similar event to this, wherein parents and students would sit for a welcoming ceremony. I remember holding onto my parents then, as there were hundreds of people there and I didn’t want to get lost.   
Here however, I am pretty sure I’m pushing it if I say there is a hundred people here, parents included.   
Madge lets go of my hand and starts waving crazily to another family. I follow her gaze to see Peeta waving back just as eagerly.  
Five year olds, I think to myself, they’re so energetic...  
I’m ignoring the fact that I’m supposed to be five as well.   
We walk over to where he is and Madge immediately glomps him.   
Over the past year before starting school, many more playdates had taken place. As a result we had got to know the Mellark boys very well. I could now tell you what Bran’s favourite colour is (Green), who Rye has a crush on (Some girls called Fern Brown) and Peeta’s favourite bread (They call it Sweet bread, but in my old world it was called Pan Dulce). They likewise knew a lot about Madge and I which was actually quite nice. 

Peeta looks to be in pain and I quickly pull Madge off of him while apologising. I really shouldn’t have taught her how to glomp...  
He shrugs it off and rubs his lower back, wincing slightly when his hands make contact with it. I feel myself flush with anger at the thought of his mother hitting him but before I say anything that would everyone there aware that I know, my mother speaks.   
“Is Clara ill today then?”  
On the day when you start school, a parent is supposed to take you inside and wait with you there. To try and not make us feel scared or nervous. Even though, using my knowledge from the books and films, this world is not as sexist as my old one, there are still some general expectations and attitudes towards each gender. Such as the idea that if only one parent were to take their child to school, it would be the mother.   
“Yeah,” his father says, sounding somewhat sad.  
Our parents and him start a conversation and I ask myself what would he be sad about? Maybe he was upset that he couldn’t save his son from his wife’s beatings as he should be.   
A family walks past us and I sigh.   
Or, he was thinking about a life he could have had with Ms Everdeen.   
Really, from their different looks and the way everyone else was looking at them, they were unrecognisable. I’m about to try to get a closer look at them and maybe befriend Katniss a few years earlier than expected when Peeta speaks.   
“I’m nervous.”  
The Everdeens can wait. Peeta is far more important to me than they are.   
“Don’t be,” I say, walking forward so I’m standing next to him.  
“I’ll be by your side no matter what you do and if anyone here doesn’t like you then you shouldn’t bother yourself with them.”  
He nods, but as someone who’s been a five year old twice now, I know when someone still feels nervous.   
“If you’d like,” I say, “you can hold my hand for support.”  
Unsurprisingly, he takes my hand almost immediately.   
Madge glares at us.  
“You’re both ignoring me,” she says angrily and I fight to keep a smile off my face. Angry Madge is adorable as hell and couldn’t scare me to save her life.   
“Only because you weren’t speaking” Peeta says entirely unaffected by her glare. I giggle at this and she pouts before walking forward and grabbing Peeta’s other hand.  
“Now I’m not left out.”   
Our parents (save his mother but she is a cunt) had stopped conversing with each other and were instead watching us with smiles.   
The headteacher (Principal?) walks out and has a brief assembly where she explains the rules of this school to the new students. She then calls in a teacher to take us to our first lesson. It takes all of five minutes and even though I should be upset with the lack of interest the Capitol has with our educational system, I couldn’t help but be impressed by how quickly that assembly ended. Hopefully the rest of the day will pass that quickly...

\------

Fun fact- it didn’t. I leave the school building with a criticism of Panem’s education system. It’s a shame I can’t write a complaint, I think to myself, knowing that if I did that would almost certainly result in death for my direct family. Maybe even the Donners as well.

The only real interesting part of my first day had been during music where the famous ‘Meadow song’ took place. Now, Katniss was a good singer and it was weird seeing her in person (I mean she is literally one of the most famous modern literary characters in the world) but the most interesting part was Peeta’s reaction during this moment.   
Or rather lack of reaction.  
He looked impressed that she was such a good singer, just as the rest of us had, but hadn’t shown any other emotion which I had thought a little bit odd. 

Later on at lunch he brought her up and I wait for him to confess to us, or at least   
“You know Katniss, the girl that sang earlier?” At my nod he continues, “Well I found out today that my father wanted to marry hers”  
Madge chokes on her food and I stare at him.  
“He wanted to marry her father?” I ask, pretending to be confused and he goes red, embarrassed by his mistake.   
“No her mother,” he clarifies and rubs the back of his neck.  
“Well do you wanna marry her?” Madge asks after having recovered from her incident.   
I’d continued to stare, wondering whether or not this time around he would confess to her before the games or not.   
After all, I was going to befriend her before their games whether she liked it or not, so  
“No” he says and because it’s Peeta, I know he’s being honest.

I spend the night thinking about this development and wonder whether or not I should be worried. The whole rebellion is driven forward by his love for the her so if he doesn’t confess, then will it still happen?  
Not only that, but would he still be as selfless as he was in the original series? From my actions already, I am pretty sure that I have ensured that he will not be as self-sacrificing as he once was, but at the same time, wasn’t that what caused Katniss to care about him? Because of his inherent goodness?

Maybe I’m overreacting.   
I mean, the thing about the series in Katniss’ perspective means that we don’t know what the other characters are thinking, so maybe he didn’t fall in love with her then. Maybe he instead fell in love with her at a later date and decided to appeal more to the sponsers by making his unrequited love a lot longer than what it actually was. 

Or maybe, I theorise, it was never her he was in love with. It was her parents  
His first introduction to her in the books was from his father- who admits that he wanted to marry her mother, but she ran away to marry a coal miner. It sounds like a fairy tale in the rigid structure of society in District 12 and watching this fairytale everyday must have had an effect on him. To an abused, sensitive little boy like him, the Everdeen home that contained happy children, a joyful father and a loving mother, must have looked like heaven, so of course he would want that.   
The more I think about it, the more sense it makes.   
And it sickens me.   
In my old world- at least in my country, individualism was encouraged. There was this idea that even if you have blood relatives, they didn’t have to be your family. You yourself chose your family, not anyone else.   
Whereas here, you don’t choose. Unless you’re a victor, you’re stuck with who you’re raised with. Until you get married and have children of your own, it’s your siblings and parents that are your family.   
Well, fuck that.  
He has a family in Madge and I regardless of whether he knows it or not.

In another world, Peeta himself is awake and thinking about our favourite huntress.  
In this one however, he’s fast asleep, dreaming of an adventure with himself, his brothers, Maeve and Madge.  
There is no thought of Katniss Everdeen whatsoever.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them - that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like - Lao Tzu

\-------

The month after we started school, the reaping for the 63rd Hunger Games takes place. The ceremony was awful, as it always is and I couldn't help but feel relieved that the people who I am close to weren't eligible for the Reaping.

Of course, that will change as we grow older. And we all know it. Bran only has two years left until he's of Reaping Age, and by the look on his face during the ceremony, the idea of being reaped is all too real for him.

The rest of us all have a bit longer and although we understand the games by this point, our age makes it harder to realise the fact that it could be us getting reaped one day. I think that in my class, the only person other than me that has realised it could be them is Katniss Everdeen, who watches the ceremony with anger and looks like she is going to scream at the Capitol any second. She doesn't though, and instead the two tributes for District 12, a boy of 12 and a girl of 14, are whisked away to the Justice Building, so their families can say their goodbyes.

That night, on my father's television, we watch the reapings of the other tributes. With each tribute that pops up, the chances of twelve's tributes coming home get smaller and smaller, but it's not until District 1's tributes are called that I can say with certainty they aren't getting out.

After all, I doubt there are many men in District 1 called Gloss of all things.

I quickly get into a routine that I doubt will change in the next few years during these games. During the day, Madge and I would attend school and then in the evenings, we would watch a mandatory viewing of something related to the games. I already knowing the winner, would always focus on Gloss.

This started with the Tribute Parade, where, with his golden crown and velvet cape, he stood out like a prince among men. Next, with the training scores, where he scored an impressive 10, and continued with the interviews where, he again stood out with his regal posture and witty comebacks to Ceasar Flickerman's comments.

During those school days, I would sadly listen to Peeta and Madge's unwavering faith in District 12's tributes, knowing that they will be sorely disappointed.

However, I don't discourage them from believing this, as I doubt that it is safe to complain about the Capitol anywhere that is not the Woods. Plus, even if I don't complain about the Capitol and merely state that they won't win, if anyone were to hear, then it would seem strange that a 5 year old girl doesn't believe in her tributes and by extension, her district. Especially when said girl is the Mayor's daughter, who should have the most faith in the district. No, I have more tact than that.

Katniss Everdeen however does not.

"Twelve's not going to win," she states one day at lunch, having been forced to share a table with Peeta, Madge and I due to lack of space in the cafeteria.

It's bad enough that she said that, but what made it worse was the fact that it had gone completely silent when she said this.

Almost immediately the children in our year- Madge and Peeta included, started to defend our district's tributes. Katniss argued with them, undeterred by the fact the majority was against her and so this...argument got louder and louder.

I didn't say anything to begin with, but when the teachers and peacekeepers started to notice that something was going on, I immediately went over to Katniss and loudly announced that she and I were going to the bathroom before making my exit.

Surprisingly, even though I hadn't said a word to her before that, she followed me.

Once we were there, I quickly checked to see if anyone could hear us. When I was convinced no one could, I turned to her with a glare. She, most likely assuming that I was on everyone else's side, glared back, no doubt thinking of a retort to defend her belief.

"What were you thinking?!" I ask, and she opens her mouth to say something, however I don't let her.

"I know they have no chance. You do as well. But what if the Peacekeepers overheard you? What if the teachers?!"

"What?" Is her response. If I wasn't so annoyed, then I probably would have been amused by her confusion at the fact that the Mayor's daughter of all people is agreeing with her.

Or she probably didn't understand all of the words I just said...

I sigh, my anger dissipating.

I really need to remember the age of these children. To be honest, Katniss is probably only repeating words that her father told her about these games because she absolutely adores him. And which child (that is not abused) doesn't adore their parent at 5 years old?

The only reason the other children in our year don't say the same thing is because our parents won't tell them the truth. Not yet as we're still too young to understand in their eyes. Even though some children like Peeta, Madge and myself have had the Reaping system explained to us, our parents, no matter how powerful they may be, would be discouraged from telling us how little of a chance this district has.

However, the Everdeens don't seem to give a shit as to what society deems 'wrong' and 'right.' I can really appreciate that mentality, as in my old world, there have always been huge historical movements that challenge the Status Quo. Yet at the same time, no matter how smart Katniss may seem, she still doesn't understand that she needs to keep her mouth shut. To her, likewise with most kids, her parents are always right, so if someone says something opposite to what her parents have told her, then she will repeat her parents words to defend them. Regardless of whether or not that 'someone' is another kid or the head peacekeeper. She's lucky that it was the former and not the latter she decided to bring up her parents' view.

"I know," I repeat with a bitter smile, "believe me, I know they aren't going to make it. Your parents know too, so do mine and all the other adults in this district. But we aren't supposed to know. If a peacekeeper were to have heard what you just said, then you and your family would get into trouble and you wouldn't want that would you?"

She shakes her head, paling rapidly. Probably at the thought of the peacekeepers finding the herbs and animals her father has accumulated from the woods.

"So," I continue, "be careful with what you say about these games. Okay Katniss?"

"It's the Capitol's fault for them," She retorts with automatically, and I get the sense that she's had this conversation with someone else already. Most likely her parents.

"It is," I agree and I see her eyes widen.

Maybe when telling her off about this, her parents neglected to agree with her in the end? It sounds like a minor thing to do, but in my past life, I know that one of my brothers had a habit of constantly repeating his opinion until someone agreed with him. Maybe Katniss was one of those kids?

"But be careful okay?" I say and she nods with a small smile.

We leave the bathroom then, and it's not until the end of the school day that I realise I talked to the main character of this series, the literal figurehead of the future rebellion.

I laugh to myself then, most likely scaring Madge and Peeta but I didn't care.

The fact that this child becomes such a feared woman in the Capitol is hilarious to me, and I'm sure it would be to them too if they were in my shoes.

\-------

I think that the talk in the bathroom was the moment when Katniss Everdeen and I became somewhat friends.

I mean, she still sat alone at lunch, preferring not to talk to anyone, and whenever it was the end of the school day, she would always be the first to leave, most likely eager to go to the woods.

Yet at the same time it was like she acted differently to me. In lessons she would sit next to me and if we ever made eye contact, she would give a small smile before looking away. When the class shared their disappointment at the fact that twelve's tributes died in the bloodbath, Katniss and I shared a look conveying the same emotion.

Even after the games, she continues to sit next to me, and after a month or two, begins to initiate conversations on her own.

Throughout our first year of school, she gets to the stage where she can initiate a conversation with me in the presence of Madge and Peeta, something that I see as a major improvement.

And if I'm honest, I doubt we would improve much more in terms of friendship this year as we were friendly acquaintances at best.

I didn't realise how wrong I was until she and her parents ask my parents if her best friend could have a sleepover at her house.

\-------

Victor of the 63rd Hunger Games- Gloss Beckham

11 years until the 74th Hunger Games


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

\----

“Nothing is more real than the masks we make to show each other who we are.”   
― Christopher Barzak, The Love We Share Without Knowing

\----

The Seam must be an awful place to live.  
As my mother and I make our way to the Everdeen household with Madge and our father going home instead, I feel distinctly uncomfortable with the way some of the Seamfolk are looking at me, like it was somehow my fault for the Capitol deciding that they should live in poverty.  
The others however looked much worse.  
In my previous life, homelessness was a huge problem. On a walk to the market I would usually see about 5 different people on the streets.   
They used to terrify me. Not because they were homeless, that was a scary and way too real prospect for myself, but because it was clear that they had given up. There was a blank look in their eyes whenever I dared to lock eyes with them.   
It’s the same look that these other Seamfolk give me right now.  
My mother takes my hand and I realise that my discomfort must be showing outwardly. Damn this 5 year old body...  
We stop and I assume we’ve reached the Everdeen household.   
“Welcome to my home,” Katniss mumbles, looking uncomfortable. I momentarily debate whether or not to glare at her before deciding to do the latter.   
I mean, she was clearly the one that suggested to her parents I come around to her house, so I don’t see why she’s uncomfortable.  
Our mothers laugh next to us and we both look at them somewhat confusedly. Maybe it wasn’t Katniss after all that suggested this...  
Were they still friends? I thought in the series they’d stopped being friends after Maysilee died. Although maybe due to my existence, did this change?  
Not wanting to overthink this, I choose to ignore them and instead turn to Katniss with a smile plastered on my face.   
“I like your house. It looks cozy.”

It looked anything but. With its rotting wood and dirty windows, it looked like that spooky cabin in the woods that the murderer would live in horror movies. But I don’t think my best friend would appreciate my thoughts ; I doubt any five year old would.   
Her face lights up and she gives a small smile, obviously believing my lie.

“Welcome to our home!” Mr Everdeen greets and opens the door for us to walk in. With a smile my mother pulls me into their version of a living room. Which, quite frankly, is really depressing. There isn’t a sofa, nor is there a carpet. There is literally a knackered television, if you could call it that, that was off and did not look like it would be on anytime soon.   
It’s moments like these that I remember how much more worse off this district is compared to my old world. My old family may have been poor, but we still had a sofa, we still had adequate housing. Something which this district seriously lacks, and that disgusts me.

I don’t let on that I am disgusted however, lest the Everdeens assume that I’m upset with staying here. Instead, I pretend to be fascinated with and in awe of the house. Which gets harder and harder the more of the house I see. After the very short tour, my mother decides to leave.   
She kisses me on the cheek and hastily leaves, making sure to remind Mrs Everdeen that they will be meeting up in the next week.   
“Why did she leave so quickly?” Katniss asks next to me, and all I can do is shrug, pretending not to notice the picture on a shelf of three blond women, with two of them looking identical to each other.   
Her parents seem to not notice, but when Mr Everdeen encourages us to go into the one bedroom of this house, I see Mrs Everdeen taking the picture down and putting it in a drawer. 

\----

So it turns out, Katniss Everdeen can be a normal kid. She had toys that she wanted us to play with, and she also wanted to do my hair. I let her of course, but after that she just seemed really confused as to what we should do next.   
I was too if I’m honest.  
It has been many years since I was last five years old, and I doubt that this household had any of the things that I would play with at that age. There was no make up, and it was clear from the way my parents reacted whenever I tore my dresses that clothes were precious and valued, moreso in the Seam. Which meant that we couldn’t play dress up. 

“Do you know tic-tac-toe?” I blurt out, half out of desperation to interrupt the silence and half out of curiosity.   
Unsurprisingly she shook her head, and I smiled.   
“Let me teach you,” 

After we’ve played it a few times, she asks me if I know any other games, and I grin.

\----

Dinner was surprising to say the least.   
We were called to the kitchen hours after we had gone into the bedroom and by that time I was starving.   
I made sure not to say that I was hungry, as after all, even if this family hadn’t starved yet, I had still eaten far more food than Katniss ever had.   
So I sat at the table, expecting a small plate of vegetables, or something that wouldn’t suggest that they illegally hunted in the woods. 

Of course that’s not what they gave.   
Instead, I got duck with katniss roots and gravy, probably the biggest indicator that they had some sort of illegal lifestyle.  
I briefly wonder what Katniss said about me to get this sort of effort put into the food I eat, but my thoughts are interrupted by my stomach. Rumbling. Loudly.   
I blush as the others laugh.   
“Why don’t we eat then,” Mr Everdeen suggests and ignoring my red face, I dig in to my meal. 

It was delicious.   
I had always really liked duck, so it felt nice to eat it again after 6 years. And I could tell the others were in agreement.   
“That was delicious!” I exclaim upon finishing, and the adults smile at me warmly.   
“I’m glad you like it Maeve,” Mrs Everdeen says.  
I beam at her.  
“May I ask a question?” I ask when the adults have started to clear the table.

“Of course,” Mr Everdeen answers.  
“What animal was that?” 

The two share a look before her father hesitantly says ‘duck.’

I smile and nod, not letting on that I knew the only place you could get duck was the lake in the woods- not even the mayor could get that meat. 

Instead I mention it to Katniss later on.   
Her parents had decided to push a bed outside of the bedroom and into the living room, so we could be ‘grown ups.’ She of course was delighted, I however, silently prayed to whatever God existed in this universe, whether it be Zeus or Warg, that they wouldn’t have sex. 

Although, maybe tonight was the night that young Primrose Everdeen was conceived...  
Wait a minute, wasn’t Prim only 4 years younger than Katniss?!   
“Where’s your sister?” I ask her, hoping that I hadn’t somehow caused Primrose Everdeen to cease to exist. 

“She’s with my grandparents,” she replies and I nod.  
“You’ve never mentioned grandparents before.”   
She hasn’t mentioned a lot of things, but I don’t think there was ever a real mention of her grandparents in the series. Either series.   
“Yeah. My mom’s parents. They don’t like me.”

But they like my sister was left unspoken. Of course they did. From what I remember of the series, Prim looked like a merchant and although she was technically Seam, I doubt the merchants saw her as a Seam Rat. She was probably an honorary townsperson in their eyes. Whereas Katniss, with her Seam looks and Merchant heritage, was most likely hated.

“I’m sorry,” I say and then hug her. 

She didn’t expect this, but I feel her wrap her arms around me, so I know she doesn’t mind.   
“Why don’t we tell each other stories?” I suggest, pulling away.   
At her nod, I open my mouth. And promptly start to tell her about the story of Red Riding Hood. 

About 5 fairytales in, she’s fast asleep, and with a smile I stop telling my rendition of Frozen and close my eyes. 

\----

I never expected Katniss Everdeen to be a hugger.   
But when I wake up in the morning, she’s clinging to me like a lifeline. 

I try to move subtly so as to not to wake her, but her eyes shoot open the moment I start to pull away.   
“Morning,” she says groggily, and I smile.  
“Good morning Katniss.”

\----

We had no school that day as the Victory Tour was coming up soon. I tried not to think about it though. After all, the main characters I was meeting weren’t the figures that I had read about yet. They weren’t killers. Yet Gloss already was.   
The more recognisable victors I see, the closer I will get to watching my friends enter these games. The closer I will get to having to enact the later stages of my plan. And it scares me.  
As school is closed, so are the mines.   
I guess a pro here is that due to the kids needing to be looked after when they are not in school, the occupations that one can get in twelve are also shut down. I mean it’s terrible for business, but due to the fact that there are no other proper holidays, I’m sure the adults of the district are relieved whenever today comes. 

We get called to breakfast about an hour after we have woken up, and this time, instead of it just being the two of us and her parents, a toddler is also there. 

Primrose Everdeen was adorable.   
I fight the urge to coo at her however, when I remember Katniss, who already knows that people prefer her sister to her, is right next to me. 

We sit down and eat in silence, with no one really being sure what to say.   
That is until Katniss blurts out:

“Can Maeve come to the Woods with us?”

I choke on the water I’m drinking.   
Surely, even if she tended to not think things through until she reacted, Katniss would have realised that asking her parents if the mayor’s daughter could go to a forbidden place in the district with her would be a terrible idea?

Her parents just stare at her in disbelief. I don’t blame them.   
Deciding to try and lessen whatever punishment she is going to get after I have left, I turn to them.   
“Please?” I ask, trying to look as innocent as I possibly could, “I really want to see the ducks.”  
“What ducks?” Mr Everdeen asks, trying to keep his voice even.  
“The ducks by the lake,” I continue, hoping that I don’t seem too gifted for my age, “I read in a book that ducks are always by lakes, and we had ducks yesterday, so there must be a lake in the woods.”

“There is!” Katniss exclaims and the two of us grin at each other. 

Now her parents are looking at the both of us in disbelief. They both open their mouths to say something, but a knock on the door interrupts them.   
Mrs Everdeen goes to answer it while her husband continues to stare at us. 

That is until Prim starts to crawl on the table and he has to lift her up. 

My parents enter the kitchen and are almost immediately taken to another room. Probably to discuss what had just happened. I turn to my friend.   
“Want me to finish telling you about Frozen?”   
She nods and I continue.

\----

“What’s wrong Lily?” Marceline asks her old friend once the two couples and the toddler had gone into the bedroom. Being from the town, her and her husband had to force themselves to not outwardly show their horror at the Everdeens’ house.  
If they realised, the Everdeens did not show it.   
“Your daughter wants to go into the woods,” Henri Everdeen says, and Marceline pales.  
Everyday, it seems her daughter becomes more and more like Maysilee...

“Absolutely not.” Marcus says immediately.  
“I wasn’t planning on taking her.”  
Henri sounds vaguely offended, and she couldn’t blame him. After all, the two men didn’t know each other, and try as they might, the typical distrust between Townsfolk and Seamfolk were bound to cloud their thoughts.

“She’s very smart for her age,” Lily states and they all look at her, “like Katniss,” she adds, seemingly as an afterthought.  
“We know,” Marceline sighs. It was clear as day that Maeve was gifted the moment she learned to talk. She’d skipped the babbling stage and instead had started to talk in full sentences. She’d finished every book they had in the house by the time she was 4. It was unnerving but she still loved her daughter. 

Her daughter was a genius. And that’s why she knows that if Maeve wanted to go to the woods, then it’s not just mere curiosity that’s guiding this want.   
It’s boredom. 

She can’t go to the woods though. Not yet. Maeve would not turn out like Maysilee, if Marceline had anything to do about it.   
Maybe when she’s older she can go to the Woods, but for now, they would need to find something that would occupy her time.   
They could talk to Ryan, but Maeve didn’t seem to like the bakery. Besides, something just felt off about Clara...  
Most of the merchants would just use her wonderful daughter for societal gain. They could make demands from the Undersees, ranging from better trade deals to even marriage. And when the twins were born, she and her husband had decided to not go through with any marriage contracts until the girls were of age and could decide for themselves. No one wanted another Everdeen situation, no matter how much she respected her old friends choice.

She thinks of her daughter. Her sweet, intelligent child who already protects her sister and the youngest Mellark. Who already tries to help them out anyway she can. Maybe she just really likes helping out people...

“I have an idea,” she says suddenly, catching the others’ attention.   
At their expectant gazes, she explains with a smile.   
Hopefully Maeve will be satisfied. She has to.

\----

They come back in just as I’ve finished telling Katniss the story of Jack and Jill. It’s depressing that they don’t really have fairytales here, only folk songs. Maybe, if I survive the war I can publish all the stories I know and then kids won’t be stuck with only hearing the Meadow song.  
Of course, that’s dependent on whether I still remember my old world.   
The way this world is going, I will have gone through a lot by the time I’m 18, let alone 30. Will I even survive?

We look at our parents expectantly and they smile.   
“You can’t go to the Woods,” my father states and I feign sadness. It was obvious that they would say that.   
“But, you can help me out,” Mrs Everdeen says and I don’t have to feign my confusion.  
She goes on to explain that she needs help in helping out the people of the Seam who can’t afford the apothecary and that due to my intelligence, she would appreciate my help. 

“I learnt this from a young age,” she said soothingly, probably mistaking my confusion for fear, “and I believe that you would be a huge help to me and the citizens of the Seam. What do you say?”

Well it would pass the time...

I nod, forcing myself to grin. Katniss smiles too, no doubt happy that I will be spending more time around.   
I look at my parents and while they’re smiling, my mother looks more relieved than anything else. What could she possibly be relieved about?

“I think it’s time we leave now,” my father states, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I leave the Everdeens happier than I thought I would be, and it doesn’t occur to me until I’m almost home that I didn’t stop to think about what Madge would think about my new occupation.   
Oh well, what’s done is done. 

\----

Phase 1  
Don’t give up on the Boy with the Bread- COMPLETE  
Somehow become friends with Katniss Everdeen- COMPLETE


End file.
